November '93
Kareena is 11
I kicked Luke's foot across our desk group. When he looked up, I pointed to the front. Mr. Roach was sleeping on his keyboard again, a big blob of blobness filling in the cracks wherever they were.
"More ketchup packets?" Luke asked. I nodded.
"That was you?!" whispered Bella, gripping my hand. "I thought James did that!"
"Obviously it was me," I said, pulling from her grasp. I shifted my eyes to my best friend. "Luke! Now's the perfect chance! Look, he's passed the hell out again!"
"No!" Bella whispered. "He's trying to sleep!"
"So what?!" I said.
"Yeah, so what?" said Luke. I turned to smile at him.
"Do you wanna help me this time?" I asked. He pursed his lips, dropping his eyes.
"I don't wanna get in trouble."
"I won't let you," I said with a sure nod. "It's always my fault anyway. Come on! He totally deserves it!" I gripped my poem marked with a big fat F. "This deserved at least a C."
Bella yanked it from my hands and read it out loud.
"My hair is black/ Get on track/ Tiny backpack/ Australian outback. Seriously, Kareena? Australian outback?"
"It rhymes with black and track and pack!" I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Poems don't have to rhyme," she said.
"Shove off, Bella," I said. "I'm not a poetry genius. So what? Do I wanna grow up and be a poet? No! This is stupid!"
"You never even try," she said. Luke ripped my paper from Bella's hands and gave it back, glaring at her.
Then Bella took Luke's next, her mouth all twisty and ugly.
"Let's see if you're any better, then, huh? Black is an attack/ You can't defend/ Nightmares and flashbacks/ Everything ends." Bella blinked at him. "At least Kareena's is funny."
"I think it's nice," I told Luke. His cheeks went red.
"Thanks, Kare."
"Oh, please," Bella huffed.
"It's a hard prompt!" I said. "Why can't it be swords or hobbits or mighty quests?"
"You're the only one who likes those weird books," said Bella.
"You're the only one who likes those books," I mocked. "At least I'm not scared of them like a little baby."
Bella's eyes welled before she shot up and stomped out of the class. Mr. Roach didn't move an inch, didn't even notice.
"She's right," I said with a huff, staring at my stupid poem. I grabbed my stupid pencil and snapped it right in two.
"Yours is pretty funny," Luke said, smiling a little. I sighed and nodded. "We can go to the Australian Outback when we grow up."
I smiled. "Good plan."
YOU ARE READING
Blame The Weeds (gxg)
Teen FictionI reached for her face, guided her down to kiss me. We were slow. I absorbed every detail - the cut of her cheeks, the trio of larger freckles near her chin, the fair sheets of lashes like spun gold around her green eyes. I did everything I could t...
